When the World Stood Still
by teaandcharcoalforbreakfast
Summary: America is fed up with how his government is treating him, so he organizes a massive strike: all the Nations of the world just refusing to help their bosses until change happens. However in this world change never comes easily... USUK  and others later
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**I am in Boston about to visit colleges and I can't sleep a wink. So I wrote this. Sorry about spelling and such. I'll probably proof it tomorrow. Chapter two is also done, and I'm not sure how long it'll be, but it'll most likely be a lot of small chapters like this.

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><p>"You're completely irresponsible-"<p>

Who were they to talk? They spent money like it was water and didn't listen to a word he had to say about it.

"-Insolent-"

Because it wasn't insolent _at all _to hate what your opponents proposed for no reason.

"-Immature-"

Of course he acted that way. He'd had to deal with idiots like them for almost two and a half centuries.

"And above all you're incapable of doing your fair share of work to keep this country headed in the right direction."

He snorted at that one. It was just too stupid.

"What is so funny, may I ask, Mister Jones?" The head of the committee asked.

Oh, but he knew better than to talk back at times like these. His humans liked thinking that they had power, and if you kept them happy you could get away with whatever you wanted without even having to break out of jail.

"Nothin', sir," he said, "Just can't shake this cold. But you know about that, don't you?" He watched the color drain from the man's face. He looked at every single person standing in front of him, wondering if anyone would have the balls to stand up to him. Seconds ticked by. Not a single one, "Well, if that's it I think I'll be heading out. Goodbye, ladies and gentlemen."

He turned around to leave the senate.

"Wait, Mister Jones," It was a woman. They did like electing feisty ones these days, didn't they?

"Yes ma'am?" he asked, looking over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

"This is your last warning."

Before what?

But he forced a shamed look upon his face and said, "Yes ma'am."

With his shoulders slumped, he walked out of the room. England was so full of shit when he said he couldn't act. He kept the shamed facade on until he turned the corner, where he straightened up and walked briskly out of the capitol and right to the airport. Speaking of England, he might as well give him a visit.

What did it matter? The government hated what he did when he tried to help (after all, to the Republicans he was a gay uncultured youth and to the Democrats he was a rich and powerful white man so neither of them really had him in their target demographic), and it wasn't like he was even obliged to do anything for them. They were created to take care of _him. _"By the people and for the people," and he was the goddamn people. It was high time he reminded them how things should be.

He didn't even bother flashing his ID (it was all very official, stating his human name, gender, and all that crap along with big red letters saying "DO NOT QUESTION OR DETAIN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES UNDER ORDER OF THE FBI AND CIA. TO DO SO IS A FEDERAL OFFENCE"), even though it made him smile just to look at it and think of all the crap he'd pulled with it. Instead he just used his natural influence over his own people on the security so that they'd let him do whatever he wanted. He stole a sandwich and got into one of the military planes and began to tinker with the wiring. After all, a lot of their defense budget was actually spent on him anyway (dozens of burgers a day don't come cheep). Since he was probably going to be cut off for a while, he might as well take a little bonus.

Taking a bite out of his newly acquired lunch, he pulled out his Swiss army knife and cut a wire or two, disabling the tracking system on the plane. He didn't want the government onto him too soon. Thank god he knew this model inside and out. He checked all the gages, made the necessary adjustments and flew away.

"Alright," He said to himself, starting up his iPod, "Next stop, London."


	2. Chapter 2

England was not in a good mood. When was he these days? At least he wasn't Germany, having to bail out a lazy no-good bastard like Greece. Still, everything that happened on the Continent affected him, so if it weren't for Germany's help he would most likely have been deathly ill.

He checked his watch. Ulster was usually home by that time, so he just opened his front door.

"Got any eights?"

"Go fish. Kings?"

"Nope. That's what that war was about. How about tens?"

"Fuck you."

"Hey, that's your brother's job."

"Ew. I don't need to hear that. Even though I know I _will _be hearing it later tonight."

England walked into the sitting room to see Ulster and America sitting on either side of his coffee table, both clutching a hand of warn cards while the rest of the deck was in piles upon the wood surface.

"America?" He asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm playing cards with your brother. Threes?"

"No."

"Dammit."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!" He shouted as America drew a card.

"Well, I'm on strike."

"_What?" _

America put his cards down on the table and looked at England with a smile on his face, "I've thought it over, and I decided that I'm not getting what I deserve. So I'm just gonna sit around and wait until they give it to me."

Fuck, of all the things- America was- Oh hell, he had to talk some sense into the boy.

"Do you _ever_ think you're treated fairly?" England demanded, "Because, honestly, you need to grow up and accept-"

"Do you remember a hundred years ago?" America asked softly.

"I remember a lot longer than that," England replied, sniffing.

"Then you gotta know what we're supposed to do. You remember when our job was to just be us. We'd advise our rulers and fight each other and then just sometimes we'd visit each other. Back then it was usually about acclimating to a new ally or reaffirming bonds with our friends. And look what we're doing now," He looked England straight in the eyes, and he was so full of passion England had to look away "We're piled up to the ceiling in paperwork. We get sent over for diplomatic crap all the time. Hell, I've been told to do PR work when I _am _the public."

England sat down, "But it's not like there's anything we can do about that, is there?"

America smiled, "Oh, but there is. If we're Republics, which we are even if you've get the Queen and I call it Democracy at my place, it means we have all the cards. Our bosses are supposed to serve us, after all. Plus we have centuries of experience evading capture and escaping prisons. We've learned to fight for what we want. And, most importantly, they can't do shit because of how much cash they owe us. You know that crazy-high debt we got at my place? Well half of it they owe to the American Citizens, and I'm sure there's a similar statistic over here."

England paused to think for a moment. Carefully, he said, "No one's ever tried anything like this before."

"They've never needed to before."

"We're going to need more support. The world won't listen to just the two of us."

"I know. You've got a phone, don't you? You talk to France and anyone else who'll take your calls. I'll talk to Canada, Japan, and Ireland because she likes me better. Then get them to spread it. We've gotta get the whole world doing this."

"You're absolutely mad," England said, pulling out his mobile nonetheless.

"I'm a revolutionary," America replied, giving his million-dollar smile.


End file.
